


What Happened In the Mountains

by jarethsdragon



Category: Street Fighter
Genre: Drugging, Gay Sex, M/M, NSFW, Rape, Yaoi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-22
Updated: 2020-04-22
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:48:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23779402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jarethsdragon/pseuds/jarethsdragon
Summary: Ryu and Ken are in the mountains—and Ken wants much more than Ryu expected.  Then, he finds that Ken was... prepared to go to any lengths to get what he wants.
Relationships: Ken Masters/Ryu (Street Fighter)
Kudos: 28





	What Happened In the Mountains

Japanese mountains were like none others in the world. The way that they clung to fog like a virgin clings to her modesty. The way that every so often, in what could almost be seen as random times, have a tiny shrine or a perfect, shibui statue of the kami that live there. The way that there would be an ancient, tiny bonsai that would appear to be barely a sapling and yet have been rooted in that exact, perfect spot for a century. The way that there were flat areas that appeared grassy but were instead covered with soft moss like plush green velvet with winding steps carved into the rock itself to wind through the cliffs like a meditation. The way any plateau could have a lithe cherry tree with an almost black trunk and froths of pink petals. The way that the rocky crags hid whole green forests of bamboo with trunks like oaks and whispers like geisha. The way that even the skinny pines clung to narrow cracks of rock and yet were still perfect as if they had been sculpted at the beginning of the universe for exactly that place and time.

Ken and Ryu lounged on one of those green spots with their water and their lunches, staring at the valley below them. The dojo was quiet, the doors slid open to release the heat of summers and wafts of incense smoke and the overwhelming stench of sweat. They had eaten well—simple rice and beans and cool mineral water to drink—then trained and now it was time to rest. Gouken had always advised simple living, simple foods and intense training and neither of his last students had any reason to doubt his teachings.

Ken looked over from under the pine tree at his best friend, kneeling on the moss and staring over the valley. “You know, even Master Gouken had no objections to doing something interesting.”

Ryu glanced over his bare shoulder at Ken. Ken had been his brother in training for years, but it seemed like they were from different planets sometimes. Ken lounged in his custom made red ghi with the jacket pulled off his shoulders and curling over his black belt. From some business deal he had a sponsorship from Under Armor or someone, and he wore the black short sleeved shirt that licked over his body like a second skin. His long blond hair was finally mussed and he had pulled some of it up in a pony tail that left two forelocks to fall over each side of his face.

It was a far cry from his own ragged ghi and unevenly short dark hair.

“I am meditating, Ken,” he grinned lazily. “Come on. Join me.” He took a theatrically deep breath of the crisp and pine scented air. “It’s good for you.”

“My mother said the same thing about okra and butter beans,” Ken laughed. “Come on. We can find some action in the village.”

Ryu shook his head, turning back to stare at the valley. “You don’t have to wait on me.”

Ken laughed back. “Oh come on, man. Let’s have some fun.” Ryu kept his back to him, meditating. “If you’re worried about it, I brought you a new ghi and shirts.” Finally, that made his friend look at him with a vague light of interest. “My sponsors are always looking for new talent and they’d love to have you wear their stuff.”

“I don’t think I look good in red,” Ryu grinned.

Ken gave him a smirk. “It’s the new fashion year and I got some white stuff.”

“Oh,” Ryu nodded with a disciplined effort to not roll his eyes.

Ken took out his branded water bottle and drank another few swallows. His lunchbox was a color coordinated bento box with the Masters Gym logo discretely on one side with the stylized UA on the other side. He pulled the layers of boxes apart and dug out the last sealed container out.

“What is it?” he teased, brushing the long blond bangs out of his face. “Afraid your girlfriend will see us out?”

Ryu finally stood and stretched out his legs before going to lounge against a boulder. “Not hardly. Isn’t that your specialty?”

Ken’s grin said that he wasn’t offended in the slightest. “We have to get you hooked up, my friend.” Ryu took out his traditional hyotan—the enormous gourd shaped flask that Master Gouken had carried around—and sipped his water. “So... do you have your eye on anyone?”

Ryu only coughed heavily, almost choking on his water, and then flushed and took another swallow. “No... not at all.”

“There were some cute girls in the village.” Ken smirked as Ryu squirmed. “You sure you don’t have your eye on any of them?” Without letting Ryu say anything, he continued, “Or maybe you got your eye on a cute guy, huh? Is that it? Is it some cute guy you have your eye on?”

Ryu stuttered and sputtered for a moment before turning red and shaking his head. Ken couldn’t resist stretching in a flirtatious way that always got him attention. “Oh, come on, man. Nowhere is so small that there aren’t a few cuties worth the time.”

“Ken! I’ve been training and meditating—.”

“In other words not doing anything fun,” the American snorted. “Which is why I’ve come to show you a good time like the good friend I am.”

Ryu seemed to be at a loss, glancing this way and that to try to avoid looking at anything. “Umm....”

Ken popped open the little container and showed Ryu the flat, white wafer looking things in it. The other man tilted his head as he fought his curiosity to look at them. The blond leaned forward a little, offering the container.

Ryu suddenly pulled back like a startled stallion. “I don’t think.... I mean—. I guess.... No... Whatever that is—.”

Ken pushed himself to his feet and went to sit next to the Japanese man. “Come on. It’s harmless.” Ryu scowled and he plucked one out to eat it. “See? It’s harmless.” Picking up another one, Ken leaned in close and tapped it against Ryu’s frowning mouth. His voice became a teasing singsong. “Come on... Just one little taste.”

Ryu opened his mouth to protest, and Ken shoved the wafer into his mouth. It tasted bland and a little gummy—like sushi rice that had been ground and squeezed into a patty. There was an unfamiliar tingle on his tongue, too, but he couldn’t quite place and couldn’t quite accept.

Ken grinned in a too smooth and too confident way. “See—nothing to it.”

Ryu frowned, the tingle fading so quickly and leaving behind a faint medicine or alcohol or vinegar taste. He couldn’t quite figure out what it was—not sake, not vinegar, not vodka—and he definitely couldn’t figure out what that smug, knowing gleam in Ken’s eyes was. Usually, this kind of thing was Ken getting up to some kind of small trouble—sneaking out when Master Gouken wasn’t looking, swiping a sugar candy koi from the store, going out to smoke a cigarette. Usually it was small trouble—extra pushups because Master Gouken knew full well about young men sneaking out, the candy maker demanding payment or chasing them away from the display, finding out that cigarettes were horrible and coughing for a week. But this didn’t feel like that same level of small, innocent little boy trouble.

Instead, Ken was scooting right up next to him, leaning close and his muscular body just barely not pressed against his own. Ryu fumbled with his gourd and swallowed the last of his water. It fell from his fumbling fingers with a clatter on the rock. “Umm.... What is this?”

Ken’s voice went deep and he purred, “So, which is it? You like the pretty girls? Or the pretty boys?” He grinned widely. “Both?”

“I... don’t think that you’re feeling well,” Ryu demurred. “We should head back—.”

Ken laughed and took Ryu’s hand. “You wanna watch?” He pressed that captured hand against the slick shirt stretched over his heavily muscled chest. “You wanna?”

“I’m....” Ryu swallowed, staring fixedly at his own rough hand on Ken’s chest. “Hell it’s hot.”

“I am,” Ken purred back. “Why don’t you take it off?”

Under Ryu’s astounded eyes, Ken pulled off that slick shirt and tossed it aside. With another of those catlike grins, he plucked off the black belt and the red jacket. Ryu took in a hasty gulp of air but there was nowhere he could retreat.

It was hot, too. Unbearably hot like the sweltering temples in Delhi or the summer cliffs of Thailand. His body was feeling swollen and sensitive too. It was an unsettling feeling, as if he didn’t quite know what was supposed to happen next except on some unnamed and instinctual level. As he tried to prop himself up, he realized his hands were shaking slightly and everything he touched was electric and stimulating in some new way.

Ken didn’t seem to notice, though. He only leaned closer, close enough that Ryu’s eyes were drawn to the faint beads of sweat on his upper lip. “What is it?”

Ryu didn’t trust his voice to speak. Everything felt hoarse and strange and unfamiliar. “Ken—what...?”

“You need to relax, Ryu,” Ken nodded, tracing a rough finger down between Ryu’s pecs. “Let’s turn up the heat.”

Ryu didn’t know whether he wanted to nod or run or shake his head. Or cry. It was something urgent, a new and insistent feeling that he must do something. Then there was more than a finger—a palm roughened by fighting and training brushed open his ragged white jacket. Without hesitation—certainly without the vaguely confused and halting he felt—Ken pushed his lapels apart to bare his chest.

His skin seemed to leap at the slightest brush, though. And when those thick fingers gently pinched his nipples, Ryu let out an unwilling groan. The slight touching—the tensing of his nipples of all things—made a hot wave of blood pool in his groin. He hadn’t been like this—his cock straining at the seams of his hakama—since he was a teenager and he wasn’t sure he wanted....

But he did.

He did want to. In some bizarre way, he wanted it now. He wanted Ken to unknot and slide off the thick black belt that was limp with constant wearing. The belt unwound almost like magic from around his waist to slap the earth . Without realizing it, he pushed his hips forward and sighed as Ken tugged the jacket open completely to his waist.

Ken’s eyes were burning with heat and mischief as he palmed the bulge between Ryu’s legs. “Oh, you’ve been holding out.” Ryu let out a whine—a hoarse and gruff sound on the thin line of desperation and discipline—and he smirked in return. “Let’s see what’s behind door number one.”

Ryu tensed again as that heat covered his dick. There was no genteel way to hide it or to disguise it—not when it felt like he was going to burst right there. Instead, he fumbled to grab the lapels and to cross them over his chest again. Whatever this was, Ken be damned for bringing it upon him.

Instead of neatly covering his chest again, he found that the ragged jacket slid off his shoulders only to pin his muscular arms behind him. He cursed in a low warble that sounded peculiarly high pitched as the fabric bunched up under him. The other man bent low, scrambling over his hips and grinding against him in all the.... was it all the right ways or all the wrong ways?

“Want it like that, huh?” Ken purred above him. He gave a surprisingly gentle kiss—a teasing brush of lips that were somehow sweet. “I can do that.”

Ryu didn’t know what was supposed to happen next, but when Ken’s tongue pressed into his mouth, it felt like the other man was breathing fire directly into his lungs. He took in an unsteady breath, gasping, and then felt Ken pull back.

He was going to sit up, but instead, felt the other man’s fingernails claw his chest. Hell, that made all that heat and fire ratchet up. He never even felt Ken’s fingers slide down his belly in taut little taps and then to his hips. Unlike American ghi with elastic waists, the traditional Japanese hakama had ties at each side. Unfortunately, Ken knew that well and had the little ties undone.

“Ken—what.... what—?!”

“Can’t hold back on me, Ryu,” came the heated reply. “I’m gonna—.”

“No.... Those... things!” He tossed his head back and forth as he felt the waist of his pants loosen. “What did you do to me?”

“Oh those? Nothing. They are just to help you relax,” Ken purred knowingly. “It’s not my fault you’re wound so tight.” He tugged the white pants down in a leisurely way, slowly revealing the delicate and sensitive skin below his belly button and upper groin. “Look at that—you’ve got a cute little bellybutton like a sweet little girl.”

Ryu’s throat went dry as Ken stroked that more delicate and now highly oversensitive skin. Fuck, he even kissed it, his tongue running around it like he was eating ice cream. The waist of his pant cut into his swollen cock, locking it down into his sweaty groin.

“Ya want me to let it out,” crooned Ken. “Want me to make you feel good?”

Ken shook his head, but he couldn’t stop himself from sighing, “Yes.”

It didn’t matter anyway. Ken teased him unmercifully between twisting the jacket behind him and keeping his arms pinned and tightening and loosening the cloth over his groin. Sometimes he was lapping at Ryu’s neck, teasing the throbbing pulses there with his teeth. Other times he hissed in Ryu’s ears or even began suckling like a baby.

Ryu cursed and kicked out, but that didn’t even move Ken. Instead, Ken gave a final tug and let his cock out. Ryu groaned at the sudden rush of cool air and freedom but then shuddered to feel the American grip it.

“Oh yeah—you’ve been holding out,” he grinned as his hand pumped. “What have you been waiting on?” Ryu gave a helpless shrug and then shook his head. “Or have you been waiting on me to make the move?”

A spurt coated Ken’s hand suddenly. “Hey—why didn’t you just ask? I got you covered.”

Ryu rolled—tried to roll—and twisted, but with Ken pinning his hips and now sliding to almost sit on his knees, he had no way to move. He groaned as the American played with his cock. “No... please—.”

“And you’re uncut too,” Ken smirked. “All that and uncut too.”

Ryu felt a cry gurgle in his throat. “What?!”

Ken gave him a wicked smile and stroked him. “Uncircumcised.” He gently stroked back the foreskin to expose the dark red head. He licked his wicked lips like a lascivious wolf about to chomp down on a steak. “Now—let me show you what that’s for.”

He bent down and took the tip in his mouth. Ryu let out a curse, torquing his hips helplessly as heat engulfed the meaty tip. Then that talented tongue that circled the tip and stroked the slit in the tip. The it swirled around him like a child with an ice cream cone. It made his traitorous cock stiffen even more and his hips pump up.

Suddenly, he felt that cliff shatter under him. Cum shot out of him and his eyes fluttered closed as he felt the pumping, encouraging every drop out of him as Ken swallowed with deep, throaty growls. His pulse thundered in his ears as the animalistic urges beat back to a barely manageable level.

Ken lifted his head, his eyes flashing darkly and a milky drop or two at the corner of his mouth. With a smug and indulgent grin, he patted Ryu’s puffing cheeks. Then, without another word, he tugged the clothes off the shaking man.

“C’mon... no one is going to see us,” he hissed with a chuckle. “Don’t you want to keep going?”

Ryu finally felt words rise in his throat. To his shock, his cheeks were tickled with tears trailing down. “No. Yes.... I... What—?”

Ken tossed the clothes aside and stroked the lean, long legs of the other man. He traced the thick muscles and stroked the light dusting of hair. “You gotta take care of me now. It’s only fair, right?”

Ryu gaped as Ken began peeling off the red pants. There weren’t words for the lightning and fire that still sparkled in his body. It made him feel abnormally shaky as he tried to get to his feet. His eyes flicked up to Ken’s sensual strip tease and abruptly he felt his blood begin to rush again in his veins.

Ken’s cock was huge, the head bulging and meaty and a rosy shade of magenta. He was utterly unashamed and at ease in his skin, naked. Ryu felt his cheeks flush—even his ears—as he staggered to his feet. Instinctively, he cupped his hands over his groin, looking away in a heated embarrassment.

“Oh, don’t do that,” Ken laughed, offering his his hand. “You are just getting started.”

“Wha—?”

“Come on,” Ken encouraged. He led Ryu to the pine tree. “You need to play fair.” He pressed Ryu’s palms to the rough bark. With an experimental touch, he stoked between those dusky buttocks. He clenched hard, gasping, and his hands curling into the bark and his feet jumping before his toes dug into the moss. “Loosen up, Ryu.”

Ryu puffed out an anxious breath and started to stand, but Ken’s hands went to his waist and gripped him like he was an anxious child. There was a chuckle behind him and a shuffle of sound. He started to say something, but Ken stuffed another of those wafers back into his mouth. Instinctively, he bit down on it and swallowed to get his mouth free.

Then there was that tingle on his tongue and he moaned out loud. His head dipped between his outstretched arms and he stared blankly at the roots of the tree in front of him. Ken stood behind him, rubbing his flanks in long strokes. He was almost ready to stand up, to run, but he heard Ken spit. Looking anxiously over his shoulder, he shuddered to see Ken stroking his own hard cock and smearing spit on it.

“You are going to—?!” he gasped.

“Relax, Ryu. You’ll be fine.” He gestured at the little container and its little wafers. “If you want, I’ll give you one more.”

Ryu shuddered to feel his body start to harden again. His knees felt loose and seemed to be almost about to buckle. He had never felt so unbalanced. Then he heard Ken spit again and felt those huge hands grip his hips.

“Easy there, tiger,” Ken purred in a throaty way. It sounded like a growling purr that made Ryu shudder. “Just enjoy it, huh?”

Ryu flinched as he felt the first brush of the tip. He tensed instinctively, expecting a sandpaper rough scrape, and when the first little bit pushed inside he was so blatantly relieved to feel the softness. The first thrust was shallow and somehow less threatening as just the tip began to penetrate.

“Relax, Ryu.”

Ryu took a deep breath and his eyes rolled closed as he felt those hands grip him even more firmly. Not so much it hurt, but just firmly—assertively. He didn’t realize that there was a difference, but it sank in. He hadn’t realized that he was holding his breath until the tip popped inside. He puffed out the breath all at once as the meaty head and thick shaft began pushing in just a little deeper. Then out—not all the way—but in deeper again. He took in a shaky, tear-filled breath and concentrated on that. Ken only chuckled dryly and ran his hands up and down his spine, making him arch slightly differently.

Then there was that first time Ken really thrust hard. His eyes popped open and his head reared back until he was staring blankly at the pine branches above him. Everything inside tingled and burst back into life as something inside him was pressed or rubbed or something. Whatever it was—and he truly had no name for whatever was bursting back into life—poured heat back into his groin. And every time that he thought about it, his ass clenched and that only made it worse as the throbbing length thrust in again.

“Oh, fuck, you’re a natural,” Ken sighed happily. He smacked the toned ass in front of him, glorying in the throaty gasp and the trembling grip on his cock. “Just... like... that.”

Ryu arched his back again. That made the inner grip shift and forced another stuttering and gasping curse out of Ken. Hell, that dick inside him burned and spread fire in his body and every thrust became electric. It was like nothing he had ever felt. If he had read about it, he would have simply laughed that the author was on some kind of drug. But as his ass clenched and that pounding continued, he couldn’t deny it was the most blinding and intense thing he had ever felt.

He was hard again.

Ken bent over him, reaching around him to grip Ryu’s cock. “Hard again? Well, aren’t you a hot tamale?”

Ryu cursed long and hard as his brain seemed to white out. He saw nothing, heard nothing, as fire gripped him inside and out. His weight slammed against his palms, grating into the pine tree. The cursed tree swayed and a pine cone dropped to hit his shoulder, but he didn’t even know it.

He was hard, as hard as Ken. And he was caught between Ken’s cock behind him and his fist in front of him. He throbbed—every part of him ached and pulsed in a wicked drumbeat—and all of him was lost beyond anything Master Gouken had ever taught him. Spurts and drips uncontrollably smeared across the American’s fist and fingers, making his cock even slicker.

Ken pulled back just an inch or two further, and Ryu growled at the heat and emptiness inside him. His hands clenched even harder as he tried to push up, regain the heavy fullness. There was still nothing he could do between his clumsy stance and the desperation filling his belly.

What felt like agonizing seconds later, his cum shot out over Ken’s hand. It burned as it flowed out and his cock softened in the same coal fire way. Ken’s hand rubbed against his hip, smearing it all over him. Then, he felt Ken really thrust, really dig into him. His ass burned and harsh fingers gripped his flanks as Ken rammed inside him repeatedly. Then, he felt the throbbing cock jerk wildly and then flood him.

Ken panted over him for a minute as if he had to catch his breath. And maybe he did. Ryu dared to open his eyes and look at his hands. Huge claw marks had ripped chunks of pine bark out and tossed them to the ground. He had done that, as fire had burned every firm and strong thing inside him.

Ryu sighed in relief, his arms giving out. He barely missed smashing his nose into the trunk as Ken pushed his hips and pulled out. Everything in him trembled and shook and he dropped to one knee with a groan.

Nothing had ever.... Every single thing he had believed, ever known, seemed to have been rocked to its foundations. He felt dried out, too—no like dehydrated, but instead empty and dried out. He was relaxed... no, not relaxed, but rather beyond his previous understanding of exhausted. His legs gave out and he gradually lowered himself to the mossy ground.

Thirsty.

He shuddered, listening to Ken move around. He glanced over his shoulder to see the American pulling on his pants, sliding on that slick black shirt that clung to his muscles like sin. As calm as could be, the American plucked his clothing up and brought them to him.

“W-w-what did you do to me?” Ryu whispered.

Ken tossed his clothing—his ragged ghi—to him. “What?”

“What is in those... things?” Ryu spun, plucked up the little box of wafers and stalked to the edge of the cliff. Reeling, he threw it as hard as he could, watching as the little box shrank away and fell into the nothingness beyond the cliff. “They are cursed.”

Ken only laughed. “Come on. Let’s go down and get cleaned up.”

Ryu didn’t hear him and could only stare at the emptiness going down to the valley. Whatever they were, they made him burn, made him wild and untamed and the darkness he held at bay creep closer to the surface. Finally he managed—he never remembered how—to get dressed and to collect the flask and the piece of cloth he had used to hold his own lunch and stagger down to the dojo.

Then, in the darkness that night, as he climbed under the sheet on his futon, he thought about it and felt his body harden and love the dark memories.


End file.
